Atonement
by Tashya9206
Summary: As most of Ferelden knows, the Grey Warden, Duncan, perished while defending Ostagar during the Blight. What they didn't know was that he had a child; a daughter. Now, after she finds out about his death, what will she do?


**PROLOGUE**

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."

The Warden Commander had his head bowed as he recited the words that brought either impending doom or a life of terror onto the recruits gathered 'round him. Many were doubtful of what was to come; were they really the ones for this task? Were they the ones meant to keep the darkspawn at bay and to be praised by townsfolk? Were they the ones that were entrusted with striking down an Old God if it appeared? These were the questions that were swimming in pools of despair in many of the men and women gathered tonight.

But one in particular, a young man with short hair and glistening eyes, was quite content with his decision. He had been made quite aware of the possibilities before he agreed to become a Grey Warden. The only thing going through his mind was what had happened the night he left. The image of his partner was still preying on his mind, her slender frame and silver hair tormenting his thoughts. But the Warden Commander had made it clear: _all Wardens must leave their family and friends behind._

Just then, he realized that the elder man had picked up the silver chalice and was walking towards him, arms outstretched as he offered the gift of the Warden to him. As he absent-mindedly accepted it and raised it to his lips, he heard his raspy voice speak.

"Duncan…from hence forth, you are a Grey Warden."

* * *

Five years passed by in a flash. Duncan and the other Wardens continued their duties, protecting various towns from the various darkspawn that became bold and picked what seemed like easy targets. But the Grey Wardens were always there, armor glistening in the moonlight as battle raged on. Some perished, but the Wardens prevailed every time, thanks to Duncan's budding leadership abilities.

Late one evening, the Warden slowly awoke, letting out a soft groan as he tried to remember where he was. The scent of dust filled his nostrils, and he felt grass beneath his palms as he pushed himself into a sitting position. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Duncan noticed that he was in a tent, and that it was late at night. Through the cloth, he could see the faint glow of the dying bonfire, where he had long ago sworn himself to a life of protection and selflessness. It was then that he heard it: a faint whisper calling his name.

The man rubbed his head; perhaps he had taken a rather hard fall in battle, after all. Or maybe he was still dreaming. He could still see the horrible, twisted figures that had haunted his unconscious mind, their lifeless eyes staring straight into his soul, laughing at him as if they were silently saying, "I have no fear of you, Warden." His pale green eyes clenched themselves shut as he tried to shake the whispers out of his head.

But still they persisted, and they seemed to be getting closer. _"Duncan…Duncan…come outside…"_ Duncan's fingers gripped his hair tighter as he shook his head. "No. I won't listen. The Maker preserves me."

The voice stopped for a few seconds, then resumed, this time a little louder. "Duncan. It's me."

It was then, when the voice rose from a whisper to a soft chatter, that he recognized it. There was a sweet, blissful tone to it, and he only knew one person that spoke that way, though it had been three decades since he'd seen her last.

"Belinda?"

A hand slowly pulled away the cloth that made the doorway of the tent, and a familiar silver-haired figure crawled inside. The faint glow from the fire behind her accentuated her curves through the flowing gown she was wearing, and her bright brown eyes were focused on Duncan's, her thin lips turning up in a smile. "I knew I'd find you, love."

"What are you doing here? If they find you…"

Her slender hands cupped his square jaw gently, her fingers weaving into his coarse bear before her hands slid down, arms encircling him in a tight hug. "They're fast asleep…they'll never find out." She let out a shaky sigh as she sat in his lap, still embracing him as if she weren't allowed to let go. "I missed you…"

Duncan sighed, allowing himself to hug back. "Belinda, love…you really shouldn't be here. It's against the Grey Warden code." He buried his face in her hair, reminding himself how she smelled. It was intoxicating, the scent of clean linen fluttering in the breeze. He'd never found out how she got herself to smell that way. "But Maker's breath…I'm glad you came."

The woman leaned back to inspect his face, her smile widening. "So am I. I nearly didn't, but…I had to see you. The past few years have been devastating for me…" She stopped herself with another sigh, burying her face in his shoulder as she hugged even tighter. "It's unbearable."

"Shh…" The Warden tilted her head up so he could look into her eyes again, his lips hovering just inches away from her own. "That's behind you now. I'm here, and so are you. Let's make the best of it."

Belinda seemed to be on the verge of tears, but not in sorrow. Unable to contain herself anymore, she placed a hand on the nape of his neck, pulling his forward in order to close the gap between them. "I love you, Duncan…"

* * *

"Maker's breath! What is this!"

Duncan awoke with a start, as did Belinda, who had been peacefully slumbering beside him. The Warden Commander was standing in their tent, his beady eyes focused on the naked woman next to his prized Warden. "I don't recognize this woman! Explain yourself!"

He stood nervously after slipping on a pair of trousers next to his sleeping mat. "Well, sir, this is…or was…my betrothed. She arrived late last night-"

"I don't care if she appeared five minutes ago! She must leave! Now! You know the rules…" The commander was standing directly in front of him, his face flushed in anger. "If this happens again…you will pay the price. Understood?"

"Yes…sir."

"Good. I'd rather not lose my favorite Warden to stupidity." With that, he exited the tent, but not without giving Belinda one last death stare. Duncan sighed and turned to face her. "I warned you, love…"

The woman sighed, standing and getting herself dressed. "I know…but it was well worth the risk. I got to see you again. That's all I wanted." She smiled at him before turning to exit the tent.

"Bel…"

She spun around, being met with a tight hug and passionate kiss. He then whispered to her. "I'll always love you and only you…don't forget." She chuckled softly, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I won't…not ever." She turned once again, exiting the tent. Duncan had to refrain from running after her a second time. His fingers ran themselves through his hair as he choked back a sob.

"I miss you already…"

* * *

"Salazar…from this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden."

Duncan watched as the elf drank from the same goblet that he had used thirty years earlier, then rushed over as she crumpled to the floor beside the Dalish, who was slowly waking up. Alistair offered to help her up, but she swatted his hand away, making him yelp and leap backwards.

"Alistair. Help me with Salazar, please."

"Of course." The ex-templar picked the woman up with ease, carrying her to the tent assigned to her. Duncan then turned to the other elf, who was wobbling a bit. "Are you alright? You took quite a fall."

At first, she glared at him, but once she realized who it was, she nodded, her expression becoming sheepish. "Yes, I'm alright…I had such horrible dreams, though."

"Such is the price of becoming a Grey Warden. No matter, though; it is done, and you have survived, along with your fellow elf. When she awakens, I want both of you to attend a meeting with me. King Cailan and Loghain will be discussing the battle strategy, and he will no doubt be eager to assign you two with something."

She nodded before walking in Alistair's footsteps, eager to find her friend. Duncan made his way towards the table where the meeting would occur, his hands lifting in order to tighten the ponytail on the back of his head. The years had gone by so quickly…it seemed impossible that he'd seen Belinda twenty-five years ago. Where had they gone? He shook his head, trying to forget his worrying thought as he approached the two arguing over the plans.

* * *

"You three will be lighting the beacon at the Tower of Ishal. This will alert Loghain's troops that it's their time to strike."

"What?" Alistair protested, bringing the attention of the two elven girls. "I won't be in the battle?"

"If the king wants us to light the beacon, then we shall do it. Don't worry; you'll get your glorious battle soon enough."

"You can count on us, Duncan," Salazar said loudly, her stance one of confidence as she looked up at him with a smirk. He pinched the bridge of his nose, but not in annoyance. He was more stressed than anything; he had a terrible feeling that something might not go according to plan. But once again, he tossed his worries aside, nodding at the recruits. "Then go, and be careful. He turned to leave.

"Duncan!"

He turned at hearing Alistair's voice, laced with desperation. But he managed to control himself, standing at attention. "May the Maker watch over you."

"May he watch over us all."

* * *

The Warden knelt over the king's corpse, listening to the screams of his men being impaled by the darkspawn's twisted weaponry. He gripped his swords in his hands, his green eyes glazed over with tears of both pain and misery. How could Loghain do this to them? How could he desert them at a time like this, when the darkspawn were a threat to all of Ferelden? Was he really that confident in himself?

As he heard the stomping of feet behind him, he knew his end was near. And for once…he embraced his fate. He looked up at the sky, his wounds oozing and stretching as he leaned back. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see them rushing towards him, lifeless eyes sparkling from the nearby fires. As he took his last breath, a silver-haired woman flashed before his eyes.

"I'm sorry…"

Those were his last words as he felt the blade ram itself through his chest, ripping his insides apart and dragging down his back. But he felt no pain; his thoughts were focused on Belinda, and their last night together. As he let out a loud sigh and allowed his eyes to close, he recalled the last thing she ever said to him:

"_I won't forget you…not ever."_

As the army dispersed and the fires blazed, the darkspawn's howls of victory echoes throughout the Korcari Wilds, alerting the Chasind to the dangers that were ahead of them. What no one seemed to notice was the figure hiding amidst the trees.

A woman with silver hair.


End file.
